Toying...

Paper-mâché  me around your wrist

a cast to call the time, to be your watch

Bead me through your ears

and hear me dangle

Braid my body to beautify yours

your masterpiece; your art

It's a travesty the sign reads "Do Not Touch"

for you stand in a museum now

in a glass case, as memorabilia,

as a token of a love short-lived

and I want to unlock you and

spend the afternoon in play- only this time,

you'd let me win

and this time

it'd only be a game and we'd be okay at sundown.

And I wouldn't have pushed you away

for envy, insecurity,

like the hummingbird

who knows the more honey she seeks

the closer to her defeat she becomes

I couldn't help myself.

I loved, but I never learned a love that

lets things happen as they may,

that hands hearts to fate and feels okay with it.

Sometimes, I think, you have to make things happen.

And I make things.

I create,

and we are a collage.

A couple.

Me- gluing my life

to yours,

cutting my life

to suit yours,

the colors both compliment and contrast

it was a fast project what we made.

And the pride I felt

holding it up to the light,

watching our faces dance

by my hand's movements,

but you can't bring picture perfect to life that way...

Though my memory sees our caring arts and crafts game-

it fails to remember

the quiet rustle of wastebasket

and the scraps that never were

quite contained.